I have a friend who has given a whole new meaning to Hockey Mom. Instead of just watching her son play hockey, she’s started playing herself. At forty years old. With other moms once a week. And she’s having the time of her life. Here’s what she’s reporting:

“I can go really fast and not get hurt.” This is the alter ego to the mid-life crisis, when the graying executive buys a Corvette and drives like a teenager full of hormones. My friend tells me that all the padding makes her invincible once a week.

“I get a great workout and it’s fun!” Emphasis on the fun part. She doesn’t think about how much longer she has to be on the ice. She’s discovered that play can be part of exercise.

“We try out the same stuff the kids do, like Superman dives followed by rolling around on the ice.” Picture that in your mind—a group of forty-something women, diving at each other and laying on the ice, just for the fun of it. These Hockey Moms have discovered the joy of kid-like silliness.

“If I can learn to play hockey at 40, I can do anything.” It’s no small feat to put on skates, grab a stick and move a middle-age body like it was 14. What we think is “not me” is just a challenge to ourselves to become more than the image that makes us comfortable.

What’s your version of Hockey Mom that is ready to emerge? Holy cow, I may try that mogul run next weekend…..